Shadowed Pryde
by KatePryde
Summary: The days that I get headaches are some of the worse days of my life. But when I got one today, I had no idea what was going to happen. Falling through the floor was definitely not on my agenda. Meeting others like me? Yeah, that wasn't on there either. My name is Kitty Pryde. I'm blind. And I'm a mutant. Life doesn't get much weirder than that.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I came up with the plot idea. That's about it. Anything that you can recognize _most definitely does not_ belong to me. Savvy? **

**I came up with this idea one day when I was getting mad about the lack of character development for Kitty Pryde. So I decided to rewrite her story, using a combination of all of her different versions (movie, cartoon, comic, etc.), and a little bit of my own flair. The result of a year's hard work is what you see before you. Enjoy!**

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A car zooms past me as I halt at the crosswalk. Even with the cane in my hand giving me the right-of-way, and the stop sign that I know is there, the vehicle goes on without pausing. I resist the urge to sigh, and continue on once I knew it was far away from me.

_And I'm the blind one..._

The dance class that I attend every Tuesday and Thursday was only two blocks from my home, and even though my parents are extremely overprotective they also both have jobs. Neither of one them could pick me up when class ends. So, I let my parents think that I ride home with a friend, while in reality I walk. I know that it's deceitful and wrong, but it's also the one bit of freedom that I have. I'm not about to give that up. Even if I have to lie to keep it.

Don't get me wrong, I love my parents. They've given me so much. Upon discovering that Teresa was unable to have children, Carmen suggested they look into adoption. That's how they found me. A lost, scared little girl who sat in the orphanage crib clutching a blanket and sucking her thumb. My eyes, Mom says whenever she tells the story, were the first thing that they noticed about me. _Demon eyes_, others had called them, but it was those same eyes that made the Pryde's want to adopt me.

It was the first time someone had even applied. Every other prospective set of parents ran the other way the second they saw my blood red irises.

You know, typically, it's said that you can't really remember anything that happened to you during your toddler years. But that day is fixed as clearly in my mind. When they entered the room I braced myself for the normal sound of the mother screaming and the father shouting at the director. But it never came. Instead, a hand touched me. I remember being surprised. No one had ever touched me before. Carmen scooped me into his arms and held me out to Theresa, and my life has never been the same since, thanks to them and the contacts. Now no one screams at me anymore, unless it's my dance teacher telling me to correct my posture.

I halt when my cane hits the side of a mail-box, and I slide my hand over it to double-check the numbers. _743._ I was home. _1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 steps, turn right when you hit the rose bush, two steps up the stairs, and there's the door. _I open it carefully, just in case my cat had decided to sleep in front of it again. The last time she did it, it didn't end well, and I cringe slightly at the memory.

I'm in luck this time. She's nowhere near the door.

_Probably sleeping on my bed..._my thoughts trail off as I realize someone was in the house with me. Immediately I am on my guard, and I switch the position of my cane so that I am holding it in a way it can be used as a weapon if need be.

"Kitty, what on earth are you doing?!"

Teresa's voice startles me out of my panic. "I heard voices." I hiss in annoyance. "I didn't know you'd be home early." I ignore the hand that she places on my shoulder, and straighten up quickly. "Why didn't you tell me you would be here when I got home? If you hadn't shouted when you did, I would've brained you."

"We wanted it to be a surprise Kitten." I turn my head toward Carmen. He takes my hand in his, and lays it on an arm. More specifically, on a strangers arm. "This is Emma Frost," he explains, "She is the headmistress of a school for the gifted that is interested in giving you a scholarship." She feels as cold as ice and as stiff as a board, and I quickly move my hand away.

"I like my school." I say heatedly. "And you promised you wouldn't try to send me to another blind school."

"This isn't a blind school Kitten," Teresa cuts in hurriedly. "But a school for intelligent children who simply cannot reach their full level of potential in other schools."

"I'm in college, Ma. I'm not stupid. But let me guess, in order to make her school more desirable to you, Ms. Frost has offered you fully equipped facilities for blind people. Railings everywhere, no stairs, large sidewalks, the latest technology, etc. etc."

Their silence is the only answer that I need. "Yep. I knew it." I drop my backpack on the floor and sigh. "Why don't you go into the living room and discuss my future without me. I'll be in my room." I can already feel the headache coming on, and I rub my eyes tiredly. No one makes any motion to stop me as I head towards the stairs.

Like I said, I love my folks. But they can be crazy sometimes. They don't think that my current school is good enough, or safe enough, so they are doing everything in their power to get me to move. Not happening. Not with what has been going on recently.

I can feel the pain settle in my forehead, and I groan slightly as it swiftly increases. "Not again." I gasp, grabbing onto the railing. I can hear the other three in the background, and it's clear to me that they don't notice the predicament that I am in. They are offering to show Ms. Frost the yard, which Teresa designed herself. I listen as Ms. Frost explains that she has a few more things to speak to them about before she leaves. Sighing, I slowly continue on my way.

By the time I reach my door I feel like a thousand elephants are having a party in my head, and I can barely make it to the bed before I collapse. I reach for the drawer in the nightstand, and pull out the prescription grade painkillers that my doctor gave me after the first few times this happened. I don't even bother getting up to get a drink, and swallow them dry, wincing as one of them catches slightly in my throat before sliding down.

"Uggg." I moan as I wait for the drugs to take affect._ Even though they are the strongest ones I can take safely, they don't help, not really..._I let my thoughts trail off as I resist the urge to scream. _I swear, if I wasn't already blind, I wouldn't be able to see right now. _I writhe in my bed slightly as I wait for the pain to recede. Twisting around in my sheets, I reach out for...something...anything to hold on to. The all of a sudden, I'm falling. It's happened before, me rolling off the bed because I can't concentrate on anything but the pain. But this time is different.

It seems to take forever for me to hit the ground, and I feel like I'm floating for a second. But once I make friends with the floor again, the pain finally begins to go away. _Guess those meds work after all. _I reach my hand up to my bedpost to pull myself up, only to find that it's not there. _I must've rolled father than I thought._ I crawl forward slowly, only to become confused when I don't bump into the bed. Or anything for that matter.

I am not the neatest person on the planet. I like clutter. Now, that might be surprising coming from a blind person, but I've never not been blind. My sight, or lack thereof has always been a part of who I am. I lived in a orphanage, and it didn't take me long to get used to running into things. I have books, clothes, technology, you name it, and it's probably on my floor. But that doesn't mean that I am a complete slob. I clean up once a week to keep Teresa from having a heart attack at all the possible dangerous situations I put myself in.

But back to the fact that I am clearly no longer in my room. The floor is hard beneath me, but that really tells me nothing since all of our floors are hardwood. I reach my hands out, searching for something, anything that could tell me where I am. Oh god, I hope I'm not in the basement. I grew slightly panicked, since no one ever comes down there and the door that opened into the kitchen pantry was most likely locked.

My right hand struck something, and as I ran my fingers over it I came to the realization that it was a television. And it wasn't just any television. It just so happened to be the television that was located in the family room, which was exactly one floor beneath my bedroom. Now, maybe I am completely crazy. Maybe I need an appointment at a mental health facility. But right then, as my fingers ran over the cool hardness of the edge of the TV, I could have sworn that I had just fallen_ through_ the floor.

Before I could completely freak out, I could hear voices approaching. By now my headache was completely gone, so I could easily discern that my parents and the cold headmistress were approaching. I stood quickly, stumbling slightly as I felt around for some excuse as to why I had suddenly appeared in the living room when I should be in my room resting. I knew Teresa would ask questions, and sure enough the minute she saw me she asked, "What are you doing down here Kitten? Does your head hurt worse? Should we call the doctor."

"I'm fine Ma," I hasten to reassure her. "My headache is gone now, and I was just...just...I was thirsty and came down for a glass of water."

"Then why are you in the living room?" she asks me shrewdly.

"Because..." I stutter, "I got my drink, and thought I might see if there were any new shows on the DVR before I start my homework."

She seems to accept my excuses, for which I am grateful. "Well," she says, "We were just showing Ms. Frost out." I nod, and hold out my hand for her to shake, shuddering when her cold skin touches mine. Drawing back, I resist the urge to wipe my hand on my pants.

"Thank you so much for your time Ms. Frost, we are so proud of our Kitten and so honored that out of thousands of children you chose her..." Teresa's voice fades away as she leads Ms. Frost to the door.

"You okay Kit-Kat?"

My head jerks slightly. I had forgotten about Carmen. "Yeah Dad. Just fine." He lays his hand on my arm, and I sigh. "Alright, so I'm more than a little grateful that she's gone. I hate it when schools come to interview me." He tenses slightly, and I turn my face to his in confusion. "Dad?"

He sighs. "There's no use in hiding it from you. There is another school coming to see you today."

I draw back slightly. "It's in New York, run by a man named Charles Xavier. He called earlier this week, and your mother answered the phone. I would have said no for you, but she got there first so..."

"Geez Dad, why don't you just sell me and get it over with?! You know that I don't want to leave."

"Yes, I do Kitten, but I want what is best for you. You've already got a business degree, and you're currently working on your masters. You're fourteen Kitten! Don't tell me that you don't get made fun of, because I know that you do. And pretty soon, at the rate you're going, there will be nothing left for you to learn. You're brilliant, and you know that. You're more than a community college girl." he says heatedly.

"My community college suits me just fine." I spit back.

"Look," he exclaims tiredly, "I've heard all of your protests before. Meet with these people, hear what they have to say, and then tell them no. It's a tad more polite than just saying no without even meeting them."

"What are we talking about?" Teresa asks airily as she walks back into the room with her usual flair.

"I was just telling Kitty about the other school that is coming today."

"Oh yes! Professor Xavier and I chatted on the phone, he sounds like a lovely man."

"I'm glad you like him so much." I cry bitterly. "Makes my decision so much easier."

She clearly doesn't pay attention to the sarcasm in my tone. "He's coming over soon. I've just put on a pot of tea, because he sounded British over the phone." I can't help but laugh.

"Yes, great idea Ma! Because automatically assuming he is British and therefore likes tea just from hearing his voice is not slightly racist at all."

"Why, what do you mean?"

"Ma, come on. You can't honestly believe that all Britons like tea."

"Well, if he doesn't, then there is lemonade in the fridge."

I shake my head at her. She sounds like a schoolgirl having her first crush over for dinner. "Kitty." Carmen says sharply. I turn to him in confusion. _What have I done now? _"While your yoga pants and leotard might be slightly appropriate for greeting a female guest in your home, I doubt that they are fine for meeting with a man who is here to talk about his school."

As soon as he stops speaking I bolt for the stairs, taking them two at a time. The last thing I want is to be caught in my work-out clothes. I didn't even think about it when Ms. Frost was here.

The second I burst into my room I am at the wardrobe, digging through it for something suitable to wear. Teresa and I spent an entire weekend during the summer organizing my closet, and it's been easy to get dressed ever since. The majority of my clothes are black, with absolutely no bright colors whatsoever. At least, that's what my friends tell me. Can I help it if I like the way they feel?

At first I pull on a pantsuit, but then I realize that I am uncomfortable enough in this situation, and this Professor fellow might as well see me for who I really am if he wants me so bad. Ms. Frost saw me looking like a slightly professional dancer. Xavier won't. I pull on a black tee shirt and some matching skinny jeans, before slipping on some silver bracelets and earrings. The final touch are my favorite pair of converse, and by the time I am done I feel comfortable.

As I open the door to leave, the first thing I notice is that there is someone conversing with my parents. _Annnnd they're here. Great. _I make my way to the top of the stairs slowly, determined not to be spotted before I had a chance to analyze these newcomers. Voices can tell you a lot about people, and I wanted to know something about them before my parents thrust me on them. And here I am still reeling from the fact that I just fell through the floor. _I don't have time to deal with this._

_**And you don't have to. **_

And now I'm hearing weird accented voices in my head. Forget the school, mother, just send me to the nearest insane asylum.

_**I assure you that you are not hearing voices. **_

So sayeth the voice in my head.

**You're different, Katherine. You know that. There are others like you. I am one of them. **

Uh huh. Sure. Prove it.

"I believe that is the young lady that we have come to see. Katherine? Will you not come down."

A British accent. _Must be the person Teresa spoke to_. Xavier. His voice was...gentle. Grandfatherly. And it sounded just like the voice in my head. Needless to say, I am wary trust it. But now I could feel eyes on me, and from the sounds of breathing I knew that more than one person had come with him. Turning around and running back to my room was clearly not an option, so I descended the stairs with as much dignity as a person just caught eaves dropping could possibly have. I keep my hand on the rail once I step into the hall.

"Kitten, there you are! I was just about to come get you!"

Translation: You were about to come stuff me into some horrible dress that makes me look and feel like a baby doll. And not in a good way. And seriously, using pet names in front of strangers? I'm sure we have talked about her not doing that at some point in my life.

"Kitty," Carmen cuts in before she can go any further, drawing me close to his side and pulling me forward. "This is Professor Xavier." In a low voice that no one else can hear he whispers, "He's in a wheelchair, so his hand is a little lower than what you are used to."

Taking the hint, I step forward and paste a smile on my face. "Hello." I say as I extend my hand out towards where I think he is. There is a small whirring sound, and I for the second time in as many hours I feel a hand that is not my parents touch me.

"Hello Kitty." _**I assure you, we mean you no harm. **_

Sure.

"These are some teachers and students of mine," he continues briskly, and I can feel him twist.

"Why don't you all introduce yourself to Katherine?"

"I can do you one better!" Carmen suddenly cuts in, "Kit, why don't you take these three down to the malt shop while your mother and I talk with the Professor? My treat." He grabs my arm and shoves my cane and a wad of cash into my hand.

And now I've got two choices. Refuse, make my family look like fools and get us all stuck in the house with the crazy man in the wheelchair, or leave my parents with said man and go off with three of his minions. We'll probably all be dead the moment I leave.

_**I promise you Kitty, we will not harm you or your parents. **_

How can I trust you? I don't even know you.

_**You're right. You don't. Just trust that I can clearly do nothing to your parents, who are both able-bodied adults, whereas I am paralyzed from the waist down. **_

You've got a point.

"Sure dad. See you in a few." I walk to the door as slowly as I possibly can, and I feel a sense of dread with every step I take.


	2. Chapter 2

**Next chapter! Thanks to all the readers who've put up with this so far!**

**There is some Russian in this chapter. I am an English speaking person who is in the process of learning Russian. My skills are not great, and I did use some Google translate for some words. If anything is incorrect, please let me know so that I can fix it!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Ya know, looking back on that day now, I realize how stupid my parents and I were. I mean, seriously, my parents were stupid for sending their blind (blind!) daughter off with three total strangers, and I was stupid for letting them. Forget the fact that I took those self defense classes and take a refresher course every couple of months, I could tell that one of my companions was huge, and I new that he or she could easily squash me in a second. My karate and I wouldn't have stood a chance even if they weren't mutants.

But, naturally, like the idiot I am, I attacked them anyway. Not right away, however. I let one of them take my arm and we got halfway down the street before I tripped her-I think it was a her-with my cane. I thanked whatever god that was listening at the time that I had done gymnastics before I started dancing as I dove into a round-off and flew over someones head. He-I knew it was a he-yelped in surprise as my foot clipped his head. I landed neatly on my feet, silently grateful the saying applied to humans with the name as well. Slipping the strap from my wrist, I positioned my cane like a sword, ready to hit any of them who dared approach me.

"We are not going to harm you, child. I swear it." an accented female voice reached my ears. "Now, perhaps we can introduce ourselves, as we have not yet done so. My name is Ororo Munroe, but you may call me Storm."

There were small shuffling noises, before someone else spoke up. "Wolverine. And look, while I love a good fight, I don't feel like hittin' a kid. Why don't you just come along, and like Ro said..." the gruff male seemed to be steeling himself for something. "We'll...talk." It clearly pained him to say it.

"I hardly feel inclined to lower my defenses when there is still clearly one of you I do not know. Furthermore, Mr. Wolverine, while you may not feel like, "hittin' a kid" I assure you I have no such qualms against a man who is clearly only a few inches taller then me." I smirked slightly. "I'm not even pushing five feet."

Someone, a very tall someone, next to me let out a boisterous laugh. "I like you, little one. I am Piotr Rasputin. Because you Americans find Russian hard to pronounce, you may call me Peter."

I smirked. "**_Глупый козел. Моя бабушка является русский язык. Я знаю, как говорить на нем_****_._**"

Silence. Temporary silence, but silence nonetheless.

"**_Я сожалею, малышка. Я понятия не имел._**"

"Hey!" Wolverine called out. "You mind telling us what this babble is all about."

"The child has informed me that she will have no trouble pronouncing my name as she knows the language. She also called me a stupid goat, and a farm boy. I believe that both were meant as insults even though the latter is quite true. I apologized to her."

"Excuse me!" I shrieked, lowering my cane. My arms were wearing out. "Look, I get why you call me 'little one'. It's a way to tease me about the fact that I'm quite clearly vertically challenged. But stop calling me 'kid' and 'child'. Both names are demeaning to a person of my intellect."

"Very well Katherine." Storm spoke softly, "Perhaps we should continue this talk in the malt shop your father mentioned? I promise you, once again, that we will not hurt you."

I lowered my arms slightly, more from tiredness than from defeat. "That's what Xavier said too." I paused. "At least I think it was Xavier...Look, I have no idea who you are or what you want from me. But can you please tell me what the hell is going on before I snap and go all ninja on you?" I could tell that my poor attempt at humor had fallen flat.

_Can't blame a girl for trying. _

"Look_ kid_," Wolverine said._ Really?!_ I heard a striking sound, and soon realized he had lit a cigar. I choked on the smell, confused as to how I couldn't sense it before. "the way I see it, you got no options. We outnumber you, and truth is you wouldn't even be able to make a move before we caught you."

"So says the chain smoker who probably needs a new lung." I snapped, annoyed yet again. "Here's how I see it, _kid_. I grew up here. I know these roads like the back of my hand, and I've never even seen it. You don't know a thing about this neighborhood or the people in it. But they know me. All I have to do is scream, and I'm sure the lovely widow Jenkins who lives in the house across from us will call the police." My voice grew colder as I went on, "I don't need to make a move. I've already got you in checkmate." I couldn't help but smirk at his lack of response.

"You play the game of chess, little one?" The Russian asked. _I really need to learn his name..._ If he was anything like the athletes I've heard about, I'm sunk. Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound.

"I don't just play. I win."

"Look, my child," Storm spoke again, "I swear that we will not harm you."

"And what good is that to me? That is all you have said since you brought me out here. I don't know you, and I'm sorry, but your word is nothing to me."

"We're makin' a scene, Ro. Petey, grab the kid and let's get out of here."

"Logan! He will do no such thing. Do you want to frighten the child more?"

"No, but I do want to get off the street and away from the eyes of the peeping toms."

"Logan, surely there is a better way."

"Hey!" I finally yelled, tired of their debate. "I'm right here. How's about talking to me instead of around me? I can't focus with all of you yapping like that!" surprisingly, they all shut up. Well, not that surprisingly. I do have a voice after all. To be honest, I was sick of this, and the more we dallied here the more it became likely that the Professor guy was hurting Carmen and Teresa. _New plan. _Not that I had a plan before. _Go with it until you have a chance to escape, then run like hell to get home._

"I'll go with you." I said finally.

"You will?" Surprise coated Piotr's tone.

"No, I just said that to make you think I was going with you." I spit out sarcastically. "I said I would, didn't I? A Pryde never goes back on her word. And I may be an adopted Pryde, but I am a Pryde nonetheless. Now come on, before all the idiots currently spying on us get the notion that you have less than honorable intentions and decide to call the cops just because they can."

Personally, I didn't care if they followed me or not. I had cash in my hand and the malt shop in my mind. I have a very short attention span most of the time, and it decided to kick in just now. Turning my back on them and walking away was pretty stupid, but I needed some serious chocolate and sugar to deal with the mess I was currently in.

"Before we go, may I ask a question?" Storm said suddenly.

"Sure." I replied.

"Xavier told me that you call your parents by their first names. Why?"

I stopped in my tracks. Taking a deep breath in, I sighed as I released it. "They love me. And I love them. Always will. They raised me, taught me right from wrong. But they're not my mother and father. I don't have a connection with them like other kids do with their folks. Maybe it's confusing, maybe it's wrong. But that's just the way it is." I continued on, not stopping to see if they were following me. But I knew that they were.

It really wasn't that far, and we arrived there in no time. One of the men (it had to be Piotr due to the lack of smoke smell) darted in front of me to open the door, and nearly knocked me over. He began to apologize profusely, and continued to do so even after we entered the small building.

Mike's Malts had been in this neighborhood for as long as I could remember. Mike had long since become too old to run the place, and left the management to his two children. James and Jan had watched me grow up, and by now knew all of my moods and preferences. I listened to the bell jingle as we opened and closed the door, and knew it wouldn't be long before one of them greeted me. I was right.

"Kitty! It's so good to see you." James reached down to give me a small hug. "Let me guess," he said, pulling back and studying my face. "From the looks of it you'll be wanting the chocolate deluxe." I smirked wryly.

"It's just been one of those days. But yeah, a CD sounds amazing...And, uh, whatever they want." I added, gesturing over my shoulder to my companions.

"Oh?" he asked. "And who are these fine young people?"

_Young. Ha. I bet Logan is nearly twice your age, buddy. _

"Some teachers and a student from a school that's interested in my body. The Headmaster is currently with my parents, signing papers and deciding which of the science departments get my brain." I said with a laugh.

"Excuse me," the Russian cut in sharply. "He is doing nothing of the short, and it is an insult-"

"Can it!" I exclaim. "I was being sarcastic. Seriously, you speak English so well but you can't get a joke? What's wrong with you?"

Shaking my head, I turn back to James. _Can you believe these people? _My face reads. "Look." I add softly. "Get what you want. I'm going to go sit down." James gently touches my arm, and I allow him to lead me to a nearby table.

"So," he asks, "What's going on?"

"Nothing." I am quick to reassure him. "Just Carmen and Teresa trying to get me to go to another private school. I should be annoyed at them, it's not their fault. They probably don't want to be here as much as I do."

"Well, if you need anything, a quick getaway or a shotgun, let me know. I'll be behind the counter."

I opened my mouth to ask him a question but he stopped me before I even drew breath. "Jan is taking their orders right now. They'll find you when they're done."

"It's not going to be that hard. I'm only three tables away, they can probably hear everything we're saying."

"Why are you wearing the glasses again? I thought you said you were done with them."

His quiet question startles me. I hadn't even realized that I was still wearing them. I thought I had taken them off after Ms. Frost had left. I guess I didn't. My blood red irises tend to freak people out, so most of the time I wear glasses over contacts, just in case. The vacant stare I give people is freaky enough without the added features.

But I had said I was done with them. I hated wearing them, while feeling like I had to hide myself to make other people comfortable. But I guess old habits are hard to break. I waved at James as he walked back to the front counter, then jumped slightly when someone touched my arm.

"I did not meant to startle you, little one." _Piotr. _

"It's alright. Just, next time, warn me that you're here first." I said wryly.

"Da. I am also sorry, for not understanding your joke."

"It's okay, I guess. Where are the others?"

"Storm is explaining to Logan that he is not supposed to scare you or endanger this mission in any way."

I could hear them in the background arguing, but my focus was more on what Piotr had just said. "Mission? What mission?"

"_**Черт**_." he whispered in panic.

"Oh yeah. You are in so much trouble. What mission?"

"...To recruit you."

"Look, I'm sorry, I really am, but I'm happy here. I don't want to move."

"For sure. Your parents treat you like a baby and nobody really likes you. No friends, why, you do nothing but school and dance. Wanna try another lie, kid?"

Logan and Storm slid into the booth in front of me, and I felt it when Piotr sat next to me. I moved all the way to the left and still felt squished next to his frame. _Dang, he's huge. I bet he could pick me up with one hand._

Scowling at the man who had just spoken to me,I asked the question again. "What mission?" My voice was hard, and I could tell from their silence that they knew I wanted the truth, the whole truth, and I wanted it now.

"Katherine, we know what happened today." Storm said gently.

_Crap_. I decided to play dumb. "Oh, you mean Ms. Frost visiting? I think it's crazy that two schools come to visit me on the same day that..."

"That you fall through the floor." Logan really is blunt.

_Continue to play dumb, and maybe this will all go away._ Yes, I'm that desperate. _Got to get home ASAP. _

"What on earth are you talking about? People can't fall through floors." I paused. "Well, they can, but it would be very painful and no doubt involve a trip to the hospital and a morphine drip. As you can see, I'm fit as fiddle. Right as rain. There are so many analogies that I could use here, it's insane. But, the bottom line is that I couldn't have fallen through the floor and survived unless-"

"You are a mutant."

I sighed. So much for playing dumb. "I know, Piotr."

"Then why do you not admit it?"

"I'm fourteen. I'm a genius, and definitely more mature then the majority of people my age, but I'm still fourteen. I'm terrified. And, if I'm correct, I just admitted it."

"When did you first know?" Storm asked, reaching across the table to lay a hand on my shoulder. Despite her intentions, it wasn't comforting.

"I've suspected for a while." With my eyes it's impossible for me not to be a mutant. "But when I fell through the floor, or ceiling, I knew for sure. My brain is not normal. I would have finished highschool by age seven if my parents hadn't held me back. I have a degree, and I'm working on getting another in computer science and engineering. Seriously, I go to school with people twice my age. Everything about that practically screams mutant."

I wish a hole would just open beneath me and swallow me whole. This is so embarrassing.

"Katherine." I returned my attention to Storm. "Have you ever heard of," her voice grew quiet. "The X-Men?"

I laugh slightly. What an absurd question. "Of course." A better question would be, "Who hasn't heard of the X-Men?" Seriously, they're on the news almost as much as the Avengers. And with Tony Stark, as a member, they're on the news a lot.

"We...They operate outside of New York city, as a school for, well,_ gifted_ individuals."

I have no idea where she is going with this, but before I can interrupt she continues on.

"Within this school there is a device that was designed to locate mutants. It's still being built, so it doesn't work as well as it should. It can only cover one area at a time, and it is only able to detect a mutant when they use their powers."

Yeah, still don't get it. Although I am wondering how the heck she knows this.

"I know for a fact that this machine was set off twice today when it was set to scan all of the northern states, from coast to coast."

Okay, and this concerns me how? Oh, wait...

"Once when it located a mutant in New York City, and the second time was set off is when it found you."

Woah. Major blonde moment here.

"You're the..." Someone's hand slaps over my mouth and I can't continue my sentence. I resist the urge to bite it. From the cigar smell, I know it's Logan.

"Yes, but keep it down will ya! Don't need the whole world knowing."

I nod, smile, blink, anything to get this suffocating fixture off of my face. Noticing my distress, Piotr pushes me back slightly, and suddenly I can breathe again. "Logan," I heard him say, "We are not here to kill the girl."

"Oh please," I gasp, "If anybody is dying here, it's going to be him. Jeez man, don't you know that smoking can kill you? You've lit up at least three cigars since you woke up this morning."

Silence. _Thank you, whatever deity that may or may not exist._

"...yes. How did you know?"

"The pack that I heard you pull out is a standard size, ten pack. You clearly keep them in your back pocket, because you have a key chain on your belt that rattles when you walk, and again when you pulled out your pack. You may have only pulled it out once, but once was enough to hear that it rattled so much that there were only a few left in it. I know you've smoked at least once today since there was ash on your hand that wasn't even slightly warm. There were other patches that were warmer, left behind by the one that you smoked not even fifteen minutes ago. That, and there was a stale undertone to the scent, which is rather overpowering. I have to admit that the number three was just pulled out of the air, but the facts are all there."

I wasn't the least bit snarky. Well, maybe a little.

"How did you get all that in the hour that you have known us?" Storm asked.

"I pay attention. I listen, I smell, I feel. And then, once I posses the facts, I deduce. It's all elementary really."

"I like this one! She is good!" Piotr exclaimed with a laugh.

"Well kid," Wolverine huffs, "You're right on one count and wrong on the other. I have smoked exactly three cigars since getting up this morning, but I will not die because of them. I've been smoking for over a hundred years kid, and I haven't died yet. The healing factor I have stops that from happening. Bit handy, actually."

_A healing factor? _I think back to the days I used to run around the yard whenever Teresa's back was turned. The time that I fell out of the tree when I was nine. I had felt my arm snap, I screamed in pain, but by the time Teresa and Carmen arrived, nothing was wrong. Or when I slipped in the kitchen and stabbed myself with a butcher knife. Carmen found me covered in blood with no cut anywhere on me. The car crash I was in that killed my friend and her cousin. I escaped without a scratch. Every time I got hurt, the wound would be gone within seconds._ I chalked it up to bad memory and dumb luck, but now I'm not so sure. _

"Are you alright, Katherine?"

I smile slightly at hi concern. "I'm fine Piotr." The truth is, I am far from fine. When I woke up this morning, it was just like any other day in my life. Going throughout the day listening to the whispered insults and slights that no one thinks I hear, but I do. Pretending to get a ride home with my 'friend', just so I can have a few moments without someone trying to take care of me when I clearly don't need it. Wishing my parents were different and didn't hover as much as they did, while being grateful for everything that they have given me.

But when I got up this morning and went to school, I didn't expect any of this. I didn't know I had a mutation, nor did I know that there was a way for people to track me when I used my powers. _I wonder if such a device can be used for more...evil purposes. _The thought sickens me.

The conversation continues, with Storm asking if I have any questions. Any? How bout a million woman, do you think you can handle that? But all I can manage is, "What happens to me now?" I can tell by their pause that they are all glancing at each other. "I can't see you, you'll have to use words." I say, chastising them gently.

"You will of course come to our school. You have to learn to control your powers." Storm says.

"And I couldn't learn to control them on my own? I_ have _to attend your school, with no say in the matter?"

"Professor Xavier..."

"Is a telepath. He can't walk through walls. And even if he could, from my understanding of mutations, while some are similar, none are the same. There is absolutely nothing that any of you could possibly teach me."

"Look kid," Logan cut in, "While it's true that none of us can walk through walls, we are the closest thing you are going to get to decent instructors. We don't know anything about your mutation, but we are willing to learn, because we want you to be able to use it without hurting yourself or someone else."

"Yes," Storm added, "We have a special room that we train in, and our entire school is equipped to handle anything that you can throw at it. There, you don't have to worry about losing control."

"Why are you so sure that I can't control it?"

"You fell through the floor an hour before we came, due to a very bad headache. What happens when you get one while holding onto someone? How will it affect them? Do you honestly want to have someone's blood on your hands?"

"Look mister, I..." I stopped suddenly, hands shaking and heart beating so loudly I'm sure that people in the next town could hear it. I was..._tingling._ I could feel my skin prickling all over my body, and I'm not sure exactly how I knew it, but something was terribly wrong.

The bell above the door jingled, and I jerked my head in the direction of the sound. Heavy footfalls, combined with a wide stride. _Male?_ Hands slam on the counter, and James greets the newest customer. They respond, and my guess about his gender is confirmed. Judging from the sound of his footsteps, I can estimate the length of his stride. Using this, I quickly calculate his average height and weight. His footfalls are to heavy for a 6'2, 175 pound male. He's carrying something very heavy. Something the approximate weight of a... "He's got a gun!" I scream, and all hell breaks loose.

* * *

**_Глупый козел. Моя бабушка является русский язык. Я знаю, как говорить на нем_**

Stupid goat. My grandmother is Russian. I know how to speak it.

**_Я сожалею, малышка. Я понятия не имел._**

I am sorry little one. I had no idea.

_**Черт**_

Damn


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, so this one is kind of short. Mostly because it is the "filler chapter" which takes you from Point A to Point B in order to reach Destination C. Without it, the important part wouldn't make sense. So it has to exist. **

***sigh***

**Anywho, disclaimer is on the first chapter. But let me tell you, if I owned this crap, I would not be working at my local Sonic Drive-In. **

**Just saying.**

**I would like to give a shout out and say thank you to Paradox Predator, who followed this story, and to Iris-Stephenie, who favorited it.**

* * *

You know how in the movies or television, when you watch scenes where someone decides to shoot the place up, it's usually in slow motion so that you can see what the main characters are doing without having to strain yourself. They want to show you exactly how they get their weapon, what hand they reach with, how they protect the damsel in distress, and so on. The drag it out to the extreme. That's what the world wants to see, so the movies show it.

The movies lie. They really, really lie.

It wasn't anything like that. Gunfire erupted in my eardrums as my voice faded, and my ears began to ring with the backlash. Something exploded, and for my own sanity I didn't dare contemplate what exactly the the villain had shot. If I did, I was going to completely lose it. Already I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I could feel myself shaking.

People screamed around me, and I am immediately begin to panic. With everything going on in my background, I can no longer be certain of exactly what is happening, or where I am. All my senses are being attacked, and everything is magnified. Sound, smell. I can hear people shouting, I can smell the gunpowder over the scent of the sweets in the shop. In my desperation for something to focus on, I latched onto Piotr's arm.

He pulled us both to the ground as more shots ring out, and I knew that the gunman hit some of the equipment due to the sound of splattering liquid, the slight temperature change, and the smell of chocolate that suddenly hit me. I stared to struggle against Piotr, because the confining feeling of his arms made me feel helpless and did absolutely nothing to stop my impending panic attack.

People shouted and screamed. Alarms went off, and there were footsteps and voices everywhere. The faint sound of sirens told me that someone managed to call the police in all this madness. Strangely enough, through the fog that I was in I realized that the man causing all this havoc was giving no reason for it. He was not making demands, or threatening to hurt people. He was just...standing there. I couldn't detect any movement from the area he had been in. It was creepy.

I could hardly hear anything clearly. But I could hear Logan dogging bullets, Storm attempting to protect some people who have huddled together in the corner..._I guess Mr. Gunman brought some friends, he had to of with this commotion._...And loudest of all, I could hear Piotr's heartbeat from where I am pressed into his chest. Desperate for something to focus on, I stopped struggling and listened to it. I let the rhythm dominate and overpower everything else, and slowly, I calmed down. His pulse was all I could feel beneath my fingers, but soon, that small comfort is gone.

The feeling of flesh and bones is replaced by cold hard steel, and his weight increased on me, although he did quickly lift himself off of me to prevent another near-death by suffocation. _So, that's what his mutant power is._ He can turn himself into a giant, metal man. Or rather, turn his skin into metal. I shivered from the feeling of it.

"_**Лежать**_!" he hissed at me._ Stay down. _Really?

"_**Я что, похож я движущихся?**_" Seriously, does it look like I'm going anywhere? I'm so tiny compared to the man on top of me that I bet I couldn't even get him to move his arm using what little strength I have.

His weight is gone from me a second later, and suddenly I heard tinny metallic _pings!_ as the bullets hit his...armor? body? I'm not sure what to call it. Whatever it is, the people who are attacking the shop clearly think that he is a big (pun intended) threat and are determined to take him out.

I stretched out my arm and my hand hits a table in front of me, under which I quickly slid as I tried to ignore all the background noise now that my filter is gone.

_And oooooh, how I miss it. _

_Wait, what? _

_**Bad Kitty!**_

"YOU WANT ME? COME AND GET ME BUB!"

Logan sounded angry. And if I was hearing things correctly, which I should be, he's pretty good at taking the bad guys out. That's the third thump I've heard coming from his direction, although I am pretty sure the first was him getting slammed against the wall. Who knows?

Storm clearly didn't need any assistance whatsoever, because I could feel her power crackling from all the way across the room. It's almost like electricity, and it practically has substance. And Piotr was a giant metal man. That needed no help at all. He wasn't hardly even doing anything. Just like the rest of them.

One thing is clear about this odd trio of companions that I have somehow ended up with. They're holding back, and I don't know why. The power the surrounds Storm is so great that I can nearly touch it, and yet she hasn't unleashed it on these madmen. Piotr could take them all out in seconds without breaking a sweat-_Can he sweat in metal?_-and no doubt so could Logan, but they didn't. They pulled their punches, kept themselves from attacking at full strength and it confused me. If I were in their position, I would go berserk.

_And how many people would get caught in the crossfire? How many people would get hurt while you're trying to play hero? _

I hate it when my conscience is smarter than I am. Which is most of the time. This is one of the few times I listened to it. For more than five seconds.

"No, no, _please_! Let her go!" the female voice is so full of desperation and fear, I became terrified myself.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

If they had been anywhere else I wouldn't have heard the young woman and her child over the commotion. But they were right next to me, so I heard everything. I heard someone heavy footed, more than likely another man, reach for the child who hadn't stopped screaming since this all began.

"S'UT UP!" he screamed, yanking her small body against his much larger one and shoving his face into hers.

_Oh great. He sounds like he's drunk. _

I don't know why the man focused specifically on this one child when there were many screaming adults to pick on, or when he could have just been shooting bullets at one of the X-Men, but he did. He slurred a little, in a different way from a person who had been drinking, and the thought that maybe he was hearing impaired crossed my mind. If all he could hear were certain noises, maybe all he was hearing is her screaming. It's a crazy theory, I know, but at this point I can't really focus on anything sane.

The girls cries were halting now, and I realized that he was shaking her, hard. The mother was begging, pleading with him to let her child go. I silently pled for one of my fighting companions to notice the latest scene currently happening, but I know that they couldn't possibly do anything before it became far to late. Piotr sounded like he's crunching metal between his palms-must have gotten a hold of a gun-, Storm was currently doing some hocus-pocus thing that I can't even begin to explain because I honestly can't believe what I was hearing, and Logan sounded way to into the fight for me to even think about asking him for help. So I do the only logical thing.

I end my two-second inner monologue, and I jump him.

It has been established in the past that I am not the smartest person in the world. I am selfish, a brat, I have a lot of snark, and I have a terrible habit for doing stupid things. What I did in that moment proves the last statement right. This guy is twice my size, and he has a kid in one arm and a gun in the other. He no doubt in is possession of at least most of his senses, whereas I am lacking in that department.

In conclusion, this is one of the stupidest things that I have ever done. I mean, seriously, this guy has got a GUN! With a capital 'G'. It is loaded with bullets and can take me down in an instant. One wrong move and someone else winds up dead with me. The girl in his arms could die. Her mother could die. Some innocent bystander could die alongside the others who are already gone or who are drawing their lasts breaths. I can smell the blood, and I know that more then one person has been wounded in the past minute and a half. _Has it only been that long? _

But as I slammed into his side, shoving my hands around his neck and squeezing as tight as I can, I am driven by only one thought. Well, two thoughts.

One: _I am so about to die_.

And two: _but the kid isn't._

Look, I am no hero. I don't pretend to be. I am a scared fourteen year old who is trying to make it through college and life with a cane in one hand and a pair of glasses on. I don't like people as a general rule. But that little girl was completely innocent. She didn't know pain or suffering. All she wanted to do today was get some ice-cream. This wasn't on her agenda, just like it wasn't on mine. I'm not anybody special, but she could be. And she deserves to find that out. And if it was a choice between me and some other person, I would die every time.

So I hung there, pinning his arm to his body and kicking my feet at him, hoping to hit something important.

_That's a thigh, ouch! Nope, to far to the left, wait, oooh, GOT IT! _

Clearly, whoever leads these goons has not schooled them in properly protecting everything.

He groans and I felt him drop the child, who ran into her mothers arms. They quickly ducked under the table that I just vacated.

_Glad at least one of us gets away. _

"You little..." he moans, bending over and gripping me with his now free arm. I don't let go, which would be the smart thing to do. Instead, I held on as tightly as possible and hoped that my small body is heavy enough to keep him from shooting me or other people.

The X-Men still have yet to notice my predicament, for which I am somewhat grateful. I think that if one of them tried to rescue me at this point the added noise would distract me so much that I would let go, and therefore die. And to be honest, as much as I said I was ready to, I really didn't want to die today.

I had no idea what I was doing. All I know is that I have to keep those people from being hurt. They just came in for some ice cream, completely oblivious to the fact that today it came with a free side of bullets.

_If I can just hold on long enough, someone else will take care of this idiot. _

Well, it was a nice thought anyway.

Needless to say, my companions were far to caught up in totally kicking butt to notice little old me dangling from this man's arm like an ornament on a Christmas tree. And my little girly fight move-stunt thing apparently didn't last long. My fighting instructor must have lied when she said that kicking a guy in the nuts is about as bad as constant period cramps.

Or maybe he was just able to weirdly heal himself in some strange manner, because when I kicked Robby Hensley in the nuts for getting a little to handsy-grabsy during gym class, he went down and stayed down until long after school ended. Maybe the "bigger they are, harder they fall principle" applied here.

Whatever it was, I was doing it again.

Mind rambling is so much fun, and it successfully keeps you from panicking.

Unfortunately, it does not in any way help you escape from the evil man who more than likely wants to rip your head off and has the power and strength to do so.

Which meant that in my self-distraction, Big and Ugly had managed to wrench me off his arm. He was currently holding he in the air by my wrists, and my wrists were starting to hurt from the lack of blood circulation. _Dang, this guy is strong. _

Two seconds later, I realized that there was no way I was getting myself out of this. I came to this realization when his other massive hand closed around my throat.

When Logan had covered my mouth with his hand, it was the smell more than anything that had made it difficult for me to breath. He had hardly put any pressure on me, because he was simple trying to shut me up before I did something stupid. Like what you did just now.

But this guy had absolutely no qualms about wrapping his hand around my neck-and yes, it went all the way around-and squeezing as hard as he possibly could.

_That's going to seriously bruise._

I had the misfortune to not take a breath before he started his assault on my windpipe, and therefore I had very little air reserves. And now I'm gasping and my eyes are bugging out and I bet I look like a fish and I can still hear World War III happening around me, and yet at the same time, all I really focus on is the face of my captor, who by indication of his breath, had shoved his face into mine.

There's this thing, I think it's called tunnel vision. Right before you 'go into the light' the world closes in around you and you focus on only one thing. Even without my sight, I was focusing on two. The fact that my lungs burned like hell, I was going limp and swiftly losing any sense of reality, and also the fact that I did not want the last thing that I remember to be the severe onion breath of my murderer.

And my god, it was bad.

I wish that I could say that the world started to grow dark as I felt myself begin to slip away, but well, you know, blind, so my world is already dark. However, I couldn't hear. Sounds slipped away. And that was when I truly started to panic.

_I was not going to go down like this. _

I don't know for sure exactly how I was going to go down, but I knew that it wasn't like this. I went completely limp, and the idiot holding me fell for it.

His grip on me lessened just enough for me to breath, and scream.

Sure, things had been loud before, but I put everything that I had left into the volume of that sound.

With several final bangs, things around me grew silent, and I knew that the others had seen me in the grasp of this hygiene-deprived beast. And then I realized my mistake. Everything around me went silent as the X-Men stopped fighting to look at me. In their distraction, it didn't take long for any of them to hit the floor. None of them moved, and I knew that they were unconscious.

_You stupid idiot! _I berated myself. _Oh. Shoot. _

_I'm next._

"Thanks girly!" his bristly voice was the last thing I heard, hissed into my ear before being hit on the back of the head and falling into darkness.

* * *

_**Лежать**_

Stay down

_**Я что, похож я движущихся?**_

Do I look like I'm moving?


	4. Chapter 4

**This is the next-to-last chapter. I have some of these books (and yes, there are more) already written, but my posting schedule isn't going to be consistent for a little while while I work this week.**

**But, this one is longer, and more awesome in my opinion. **

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer should be on the first chapter. If it isn't, oh well!**

* * *

Waking up was hard.

When I say that, I don't mean in a _'oh my god, I'm so warm and comfortable and I don't want to get out of this bed!' _kind of way.

I mean that in, _'oh crap my head is pounding, what the heck did I do last night, my eyelids way a fricken ton,'_ kind of way.

The fact that I must have been drugged at some point while unconscious didn't help matters.

How did I know I was drugged? Aside from the whole, "I feel like crap." mentality that was quickly becoming my life, I was struggling to control my limbs and everything felt really hazy. I took a deep breath in, and relaxed slightly as I detected the faint smell of Wolverine's cigar smoke. He either was here, or he had been here a short while ago. I was too zoned out to properly tell.

Wherever I was, it was something similar to a hospital. There is only one type of building that has that, 'I've been doused in alcohol," smell. But I knew that we weren't in a normal hospital since the doctors their don't typically kidnap their patients. But, then again, you never know.

_Focus, Kitty! Focus! _

Wolverine was here, or at least had been here, but then where were Storm and Piotr?

My heart-rate sped up as panic set in, something for which I was grateful. Faster heart-rate meant faster blood-flow, and the faster my blood flowed meant the sooner these drugs would be out of my system. They were already beginning to wear off thanks to my fast metabolism, and my arms and legs started to agree with what I was telling them to do. I braced my hands on the floor and stood up slowly, trying to focus my senses on my surroundings without losing my balance or worse, fainting or something equally embarrassing.

I didn't have time for that.

I didn't have time for anything but escape.

"Wolverine? Wolverine, are you there?" No answer. Shoot. Well, knowing that he had been alive a little while ago was some consolation.

_Now, how the heck do I get out of here?_

Any thoughts or ideas I may have had were sadly interrupted by the sound of an opening door coming from my right. "You know," said a cool voice, "I really must thank you. You are the reason I was able to capture the famed X-Men." My mind went completely blank. I knew that voice. In fact, I had just been graced with the presence of its owner this afternoon_. I knew there was something funny about that lady. _"Hello, Ms. Frost."

"Maybe now we can talk about your options with my school?" she cackled slightly. "I'm willing to offer you a full scholarship in reward for the prize you dropped into my lap."

I forgot any manners my parents had taught me over the course of my life, and proceeded to tell the witch exactly where she could shove her scholarship. I spoke loudly, and in several different languages.

"We've caught a little spitfire here, haven't we Emma my dear?"

I started slightly at the new voice that turned our little group from a duo into a trio. The first thing I noticed was the smell. _Jeez, did this guy just get done bathing in a sewer? _It completely overwhelmed me, causing my eyes to roll back in my head and my breath to catch in my throat. It was rank, heady, and smelled like a septic tank had completely exploded. To add fuel to the fire, it was covered with the cloying scent of overdone flower perfume, like this guy was aware of his scent and-unsuccessfully-tried to cover it up. It was the most horrid thing that had ever passed between my nostrils.

The second thing I noticed was the way he sounded. He was huffing and puffing the way an out of shape person does after running twenty feet. But, that would make sense since it was clear to me that he was fat. His heavy footsteps added to his height (which I estimated from the location of his voice) helped me conclude that the individual was at least thirty pounds to heavy for the size of his frame, which wasn't much taller than mine.

I drew a breath in, and immediately wished that I hadn't. I was choking, _again._

_This had better not become a regular occurrence, I have to be losing brain cells thanks to the lack of oxygen!_

They were speaking again, so I tried to focus. It was hard.

"What shall we do with her, Emma? Could she be of any use to the Hellfire Club?" His voice was almost as bad as his smell. It was squeaky, and really, really high. My ears were starting to hurt.

"With her mutation, she most definitely would be an asset. That's why I went after her personally. Do you honestly think that I would make a house-call for something trivial?" her voice grew colder as she drew near the end of her little monologue.

"Of course not," he was quick to say, "I was merely looking for conformation that she is an asset. I would hate to have to dispose of someone so young and pretty."

His voice held an undertone of desire that I didn't appreciate, and frankly, it terrified me.

_What exactly did these people want from me?_

My mutation, that much was clear. But they had to know that I would not let them use it once they kidnapped me. How did they plan on making me use it? And furthermore, how did I use it in the first place, and could I do it again? They were talking still, and I tried to listen as best I could.

"I know exactly what we will do with her," Frost was saying, "Once she's rehabilitated, with her mutation, she will make a wonderful asset to Hellfire."

"You don't think that she'll come willingly?" I bared my teeth in response, and spit in his general direction. His disgusted cry let me know I had hit my intended target.

I laughed at the sounds of him swiping the spit off his cheek. My laughter was cut off, however, as waves off pain begin to soar through my body. I drop like a rock and curl into myself, clamping my lips shut. _I'm not going to give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream._ I felt as if I was being struck by a lightning bolt, repeatedly. They must have electricity cursing through the floor.

As quickly as it started, it stopped, and I'm left gasping on the floor.

"Do that again," the man said in a cold, hard voice, "and you'll feel far worse then you do now."

What could be worse than that? I felt like I was being stabbed with white-hot knives.

"Sebastian," Frost said calmly, "lets not be hasty and remember that she is valuable to us, _un_damaged."

Well, now at least I know that they won't kill me. But I'm a bit scared to think about what these people might do instead.

"I mean, just think about the potential she has with that mutation!" Frost continued on, "Hellfire would be unstoppable."

"But what about the X-Men?" the man, Sebastian, asked.

"Oh, by the end of the day they won't be a problem. I already have three of them in my grasp, the others will soon follow. It won't take long for them to bend to my will."

"You're w-wrong." My voice was shaky and rough, both from disuse and the pain I had just endured. But it was audible.

"What was that?" she trilled. Apparently I hadn't been clear enough.

"You're wrong in thinking that I will work for you," I said, my words becoming stronger as I continued on, "You're wrong to think that the X-Men will just bend to your will. They're stronger than that, I'm stronger than that. It's going to take more than an under dressed blonde in heels to make us abandon what we know is right."

So maybe I was being a little dramatic, but that was to hide the fact that I was shaking inside.

But I really shout cut back on the snark. Getting hit with electricity again was not an option if I want to get out of here.

"Well, she's certainly a little spitfire Emma. Why don't you fix that first?" There was the tone of desire again. I shivered in fear of it.

"I think I will," Frost spat out, clearly angry about the fact that I had dared to question her. "You should have kept your mouth shut, brat."

The air around me began to buzz softly, and for some reason I knew that I was the only one who could hear it. There was another noise, a grating, peculiar sound, like when you push an iron gate closed and it drags across the concrete. The second sound faded but the first remained, and the air grew incredibly thick. So thick that I honestly though I could cut it with a knife if I had one, which I did not.

_Maybe that's a good thing. _

The buzzing intensified, and the source seemed to becoming from in front of me, right between my eyes.

"Let's see how you feel about 'bending' now." Frost hissed, and Sebastian chuckled gleefully.

"I don't think I've seen you this worked up in years, Emma my dear. This one must really be special to have put you in such a state."

"Shut up Sebastian. I need to concentrate."

The buzz was even louder now, and suddenly it was on me, in me, over me, and around me. It filled my ears and nose and mouth, and no matter how hard I tried to retch or sneeze it wouldn't get out. I could feel it crawling towards my brain, inch by inch. It tormented me. I felt as if dozens of tiny cockroaches had laid eggs on my face and now they were hatching. And my brain was their only food source.

The _thing_ kept getting nearer and nearer to my insides, and no matter how hard I clutched my face, shook my head, and writhed like a woman possessed, it wouldn't leave me alone. It was speaking to me now, telling me things that I couldn't understand. They were things that I didn't want to know, of that I was certain. I couldn't take it anymore. I screamed.

"_**GET OUT!" **_

I pictured myself reaching for the source of my pain, strangling it and casting it aside. I put everything I had into that picture, even reaching my arm out and pushing.

It worked.

Everything was silent. Well, not everything. I did hear two thumps, and I realized that for some reason Frost and her companion were completely out cold. And by some miracle he didn't smell anymore. Well, problem one: solved. Yet...

_Did I do that? _I wondered.

I didn't have time to think however. Sitting up as quickly as I could without getting dizzy, I slid my hands along the floor, and continued to slide them until I met with resistance. Mentally I groaned. _Bars? A cage, really? How am I gonna get out of this one? _I didn't feel a lock.

I resisted the urge to curse and throw things, because if I did the only thing I to throw was myself, and I was sore enough already without adding to it by banging against some steel.

_But maybe I could..._

I don't know how I got my...power...to work in the first place, but if I could get it to work again, then I could get myself out of this prison. And possibly get the others out as well. Focusing, I pressed my hands against the bars.

Nothing.

Growling, I did it again, and again, and again. After about ten minutes of concentrating with no success, I slumped to the floor feeling defeated. I was completely helpless in this situation, and it looked like I was stuck here.

Even though I knew I wouldn't be able to see them, I held my hands in front of my face, cursing my lack of sight. If I could see, I probably would have found a way out of this predicament by now. As it was, I was still stuck. Frustrated, I did what I had wanted to do earlier, and slammed my right hand against the bars.

But instead of experiencing the pain I had been slightly expecting, I felt a light tingling sensation that was more odd then unpleasant, and my arm slid through the bars. I pulled it back in shock, and the tingling stopped. Running my left hand over my arm, I could feel how solid it was even though it had been totally untouchable moments before.

With a new sliver of determination that was quickly growing, I reached deep inside myself and concentrated on the sensation I had just experienced. I don't really know how to explain it, but something inside me 'clicked' as if a key had turned a lock, and suddenly my entire body was buzzing. I reached for the bars again, and slipped through them like melted butter. I blinked, and the tingling stopped.

Whoa.

I stepped carefully past the bodies on the ground-they were still breathing, I could hear them-and felt along the walls of what I now knew was a small room until I found a door, which was strangely unlocked. I didn't think about that much, except thanking my luck that it had been that way. I felt weirdly tired and somewhat weak, and assumed that it had been using my mutation that had put me into such a state. I knew that if this was the case I had to be careful how many times that I used it, because I was pretty sure I was our only hope at getting out of here.

Even with my sight deficiency, it didn't take me that long to find Storm. All I had to do was follow the sounds of the screaming weather witch, knock out her guards, and unplug the electrocution table that she was strapped to.

"Kitty, don't."

I was currently trying to unstrap her with very little success.

"Storm, I'm getting you out of here now."

Our heads both turned to the door as we heard footsteps.

"Come on." I said hurriedly, grasping her shoulder and preparing to use my power again.

She pulled back. "No," she said firmly, "Kitty, you must listen. Take my communicator, it's one of my earrings. Use it to contact the rest of the X-Men, they're in New York City. When they answer, tell them "Code Black" and explain the situation."

I continued to protest but she was highly unmovable. "There's no way that you are going to be able to rescue all of us before getting caught. And I doubt the boys are in an position to help." I giggled slightly at the fact that she had called Wolverine a boy. She was closer to my age than he was. "Take it now, Kitty, and run. Don't look back."

I unclasped the dangling piece of jewelry from her ear, and prepared to argue with her further. I would have gone through with it, if it weren't for the fact that a squad of baddies burst through the door at that very moment and went after me.

I did the only thing I could. I clicked my power on and ran like hell, just like Storm told me, without looking back. I was also trying not to think of what they were doing to her now that I had escaped, again. She knew what I was going to do, and they knew that she knew. I shuddered as I imagined them torturing her again.

But then I shook my head. I couldn't think like that right now. She needed me to do this so that she would be okay. And if I didn't, then she and the others were as good as dead.

I continued to run, thoughts flying through my head, until I felt safe enough to stop. I had no idea where I was, but I knew that I was inside. The air pressure gave away the fact that it was a rather large room. I didn't stop to deduce or sense anything further, and instead focused on the small object I held in my hand.

It was slightly circular, and felt a little like a button. Not knowing what to do, I pressed the middle and hoped it would work. There wasn't much else that I could do, because I had no idea how this little thing worked. All it was was a circle with a button. I'm sure the insides were a whole lot more complex than that, but on the outside I'm sure it looked like a normal earring. One thing was for sure, it was high tech. The size, combined with the fact that Storm wasn't worried about it being fried in the electroshock's, meant that this was a pretty fancy, and yet simplistic piece of technology.

A fancy, simplistic piece of technology that was currently talking to me.

"Storm? Storm, are you zhere? The Professor is panicking because he can't find you three, or zhat girl you vent after! Ve're still in New York, Scott and Jean are trying to talk to Dazzler. Jeez, I hope zhese two are vorth it." It was a man, speaking in a heavy German accent.

"I hope I'm worth it to, but that you for making me feel even more crappy then I already do." I snarked at him, unable to stop myself do to how tired I was feeling.

"Who is zhis?" he quickly replied.

"Katherine Pryde. The girl that Wolverine, Piotr, Storm, and your Professor visited today. I was instructed by Storm to take her comlink and inform you, "Code Black". Emma Frost was behind the attack on us, and your team members are currently being held hostage. I managed to escape, though I'm not sure how long that will last."

I kept it short and clinical. Exhaustion was quickly setting in, and I had no idea how long I was going to last.

"..."

"Look mister, if you don't say something I'm going to lose it. I have spent this entire day going through the proverbial wringer, and I have handled it all very maturely so far but if you don't start acting like the adult in this situation I will panic and do something reckless and stupid. Your team is in trouble, and I can't really help them. If you don't hurry, I am certain they'll die. DO YOU GET THE PICTURE?"

Okay, so I shouted that last bit. Sue me.

"Ve're on our way. Stay put with zhat comlink, it has a locator on it ve vill use to track your exact location."

I mumbled an affirmative and heard a small click. Assuming he had disconnect the link, I set it gently on the floor and slid next to it. Now that I finally had a second I could analyze this room. It was actually pretty big, and pretty empty going by air pressure. I focused on my hearing for a second, and stiffened.

I wasn't alone.

_Dang it!_ I cursed myself for my stupidity and prepared to run again. But as I drew in a breath, I stopped moving.

I could smell cigar smoke.

"Wolverine?" I asked tentatively, not relaxing completely but slowly untensing my arms and legs. The only answer that I received was a low groan.

I inched forward, hoping that this wasn't a trap. _Maybe for once my luck will be good,_ I thought. _Let's hope_. I slid my feet across the cold, hard floor almost soundlessly, stretching out my arms and hoping that I hit something soon. It took a minute, but my fingers touched a hairy wall, that seemed to be moving. _Oh, it's his chest. Duh._ I mentally facedpalmed myself, before facepalming him.

"Yeeeea!" he shrieked, shaking himself slightly. _Okay, so now he's awake. _

"You okay?" I asked quickly. I still hadn't found Piotr.

"I'm stung up like a deer about to be skinned, but I'm intact if that's what you're asking kid."

"Good. Can you see Piotr?"

"Yeah. He's next to me, on the left. Which is..." I cut him off.

"My right, I know." I reached my arms up, and it became clear that he was suspended in the air somehow, with his hands somewhere I couldn't reach.

"I don't know what's holding you, but I can get you out."

"How?" he snarked.

I smirked, and moved over to where he had said the Russian would be. I put my hand out, and it hit his stomach. He was really, really tall. I'd be surprised if I came up to his shoulder on flat ground. Shaking myself slightly, I focused and clicked. Putting my hands on his chest, I mentally pushed my mutation outward and onto the body in front of me. His skin felt hot, and I knew he was at least partially naked. But I tried not to focus on that. My hands trembled slightly on his chest though.

Once I felt sure I had all of him, I pulled, feeling him slip out of whatever was holding him. The tingling in my skin intensified for just a minute, then faded as I let go of him and let him fall through me. He hit the ground with a low_ thump_. Wolverine let out a low whistle. "Nice party trick kid." he said.

I grimaced slightly and shot him a death glare. His chuckle let me know I had been unsuccessful at threatening him. Piotr began to stir slightly as I moved over towards the shorter man. "You next!" I said, slightly gleeful at the thought that using my mutation on this man would make him the slightest bit uncomfortable.

What can I say? I have a vindictive streak in me.

I did the same thing I had done with Piotr, minus the embarrassing factor. Wolverine sounded old enough to be my father, and I was so not going there. Once he shuddered and I was sure that I had all of him under my power-_Ha!_-I pulled. He was out in seconds. It hurt this time, a slight pain shooting through my body, but I chalked it up to my adrenaline finally wearing off. I stepped out of his body. _That sounds so freaking creepy when you think about it. _

I shook myself a little, and asked them if they were both okay. Once they answered in the affirmative, I turned around and started to look for a way out of this creepy place. Once they noticed what I was doing, Piotr said, "There is a door to your left and directly ahead little one. Is it unlocked?"

I shrugged and went to check it out. The nob turned under my hand. "Let's get out of here!" I called over my shoulder. "This place gives me the heeby-jeebies."

I opened it slowly, and was rewarded for my efforts with a curse from the door guard and a blow to the chest from his staff or gun. I sank to my knees and shouted softly in pain. Piotr and Wolverine weren't fast enough to stop him from hitting me again, this time in the head, and the last thing I heard before passing out was, "Bub, you just made the biggest mistake of your life."

The last thing I thought? _Not again. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Last chapter of Shadowed Pryde! Keep your eyes out for the sequel, Days of Future Pryde.**

* * *

_Why do I seem to spend most of my time unconscious now? _

That was the thought that ran through my head as I dragged myself out of the abyss of sleep, or whatever it was. I wasn't in a cage this time, that much was clear. Feeling around with my hands, I knew I was laying on some sort of bed.

I wasn't in the building that we had been trapped in either. It didn't smell the same. There was an undertone of some sort of fuel, and from the very faint vibrations I could tell we were in some sort of moving vehicle.

"Ouuuuuch." I moaned. My head was killing me. And that was the least of my problems.

I was strapped down.

_Crap. _

My brain completely activated once that thought crossed my mind. However, I didn't allow myself to move. I could sense that someone else was in the room with me. I didn't even change my breathing. The last thing I needed was to get caught again.

_What if they're about to do what they did to Storm? _

Wait. If I'm here, then where are the others?

Dang it. Now I'm going to have to find them again.

I drew a breath, and accidentally twitched. Oops. "I think she's waking up.." I hear a slightly distant and unrecognizable voice say. "Jean, get in here." Whelp, I wasn't about to stick around for whatever was coming next. I reached out and clicked on my power, making it hover against the surface.

Don't ask me how I was doing it, because I didn't know. It was just instinctual, keeping myself partially solid until the moment I decided to bolt.

A hand touched my forehead, and a second later I sunk through the bed and into the floor. Unlike the last time I dropped, when I was at home, I was in control and somewhat knew what I was doing. Ignoring a woman's surprised shriek, I flipped myself so that I was facing the floor before passing through it and solidifying.

The gymnastics and dance classes paid off. Like my nick-namesake, I landed on my feet. Granted, it wasn't any kind of graceful, and it was closer to falling and stumbling than it was to landing, but I managed to stay on my feet. Add that to the fact that I had enough space to do a complete flip before hitting the ground.

Straightening slowly, I gently clicked my power off, and at once my senses began to go completely haywire, and I couldn't for the life of me tell where I was. I could feel a very strong vibration that was traveling all through my body and causing me to shake. The smell of engine oil and heavy fuel was strong, and nearly drove me to my knees when I breathed. I immediately began to gag, and collapsed, sticking my hands out in front of me to break my fall.

I was probably inhaling something toxic, but I couldn't click my power back on no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't remember how. And then, all of a sudden, I heard this weird sound right next to me.

**_BAMF._**

And then I was gagging for a different reason. This time, it was sulfur.

Gentle strong hands moved me away from the scent, and pushed me into a chest. I began to squirm in an attempt to get away, but relaxed when I recognized the scent. "Kurt, are you trying to kill the poor child? What were you thinking, 'porting so close to her?" Storm's African accent reached my ears. She was alright. I continued to cough, even though the need to was slowly fading.

"Nien, nien, I svear it! She vas going to die down there, and I vas the only one who could reach her in time!"

It was the man I had spoken to on the comlink. Finally able to breath easily again, I carefully separated myself from the female mutant. I held out my hand in his general direction. The least I could do after he saved my life was be grateful and polite. He didn't take it.

Maybe I wasn't close enough.

Following the faint, lingering sulfur scent, I planted myself in front of him and held out my hand again. He didn't even reach out or seem to acknowledge it. I huffed.

"Look Mr. Kurt or whatever I am supposed to call you, I don't know about Germans, but Americans genreally shake hands as a polite form of greeting. I don't bite."

"I do not vish to scare you, little one."

I think steam came out of my ears.

"Between you, Piotr, Storm, and Logan I am ready to blow a gasket!" I shrieked. "Why do you constantly feel the need to incorporate my size into your names for me? I have a name! Katherine. Kat. Kitty. I prefer the last one, but I will listen to any one of those. The next person who says something about my height is going to be pushed into a wall."

"Jeez kid, you're feisty." Wolverine said.

He still didn't take my offered hand, so now that I had substantial control over my body, I cast my senses out to try and make some, well, sense of all this. I could smell cigars (Wolverine), wildflowers (Storm), a hint of vodka (Piotr), sulfur (which I now attributed to Kurt), and three others. The vibrations that had nearly driven me insane were still there, but they weren't as strong. The air pressure indicated that we were in a somewhat largish area. There was a slight whirring noise in two different places, one to my left and behind me. I immediately knew what they both were, having heard them both before.

"Nice jet Professor Xavier," I said somewhat sarcastically. Okay, really sarcastically. "Tell me, do you often kidnap adolescents?"

Everyone jumped slightly at the sound of my voice. It was a little scratchy from disuse and chemical exposure, but I think that while the sound was weird, the real reason they jumped was because they didn't expect me to speak at that exact moment. They were probably a little freaked out by my latest shouting episode, so I didn't blame them.

"What? Did I scare you?" I joked.

"You know, you shouldn't even be conscious." I didn't know that voice. It was male though.

"Oh," I bit back. "Sorry, my bad. Next time I'll just die, that will make sure I never wake up."

"What he means Kitty," Xavier cut in, in an effort to sooth both of us I assume, "Is that you were just in the portion of the jet which contains our fuel, part of the engine, and the filter that keeps the oxygen clean. Add that to the fact that Kurt was the one that got you out and you just endured severe blunt force trauma to the head, we are not even sure you should be alive right now."

Well, go me. Clearly, I am a survivor.

That buzzing feeling I had felt back when I was with Emma and her creepy partner in crime returned. The Professor was attempting to snoop inside my head, and it was giving me a slight migraine. It was also as uncomfortable as the time one of the girls in my locker room at dance class stole all my thongs, and I had to do my entire routine with my tights and tutu jammed up my butt.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's rude to read peoples minds without their permission?" Don't ask me how I knew what he was doing. I just knew.

The buzzing went away. Apparently, I startled him.

"You can feel that?"

"Yes, and it's giving me a headache."

"Come here Kitty," Piotr spoke up, "I will get you an aspirin."

I nodded my head in thanks, and began to make my way over to him. He was somewhere on my left, and I was confident that I could make it on my own. Others did not share that thought.

"Here, let me help you." The male I did not know was on his back a second later, trying to get his breath back.

"I am blind." I told him sternly. "I am not helpless. If I ask for help, give it then, and only then." I had a sudden thought. "Did anyone happen to find my cane?"

"Naw kid, that thing is long gone. Sorry."

I shrugged. "I've got a spare at home. Several spares actually. I'll be fine until then." I continued to make my way over the the giant, who handed my a small pill and a glass of water. I downed the medicine gratefully.

"Better?" he asked. I nodded, and thanked him verbally this time.

"Think nothing of it." he replied.

"Kitty?" another new voice, this one female. "May I examine you?"

"Person," I replied, "No."

"Kitty," the Professor admonished, "Don't be rude."

Well, that was the last straw. I blew.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" I asked quietly, dangerously. "Who do you think you are?! You show up in my home, force your way into my head, and expect me to just go along with what you say? Then, when I do slightly trust you I end up fighting for my life before being knocked out and shoved into a cage. All of a sudden, I am free, trying to save the lives of your students! Then, once I free Big Guy and Growly over there," I threw my arm in his general direction, "I'm suddenly out again! And when I wake up, I am strapped to a table like some sort of lab experiment. Now, I've got two totally strangers groping at me, one wanting to basically carry me and the other to 'examine' me. I'm sorry if you think that I'm being rude, but a) it has been a very trying day, and b) I am not about to let someone I don't know look at me like a doctor, when I'm pretty sure she isn't one." It took me a while, but I eventually ran out of breath.

"I am working on a degree in medicine Kitty, I assure you I am qualified."

Poor, unsuspecting creature. "You're working on a degree? Really, that's lovely. I'm sure you're doing so well in that. Tell me, are all of your professors male, or do you just get other people to do your homework?"

"Excuse me, but I-" I cut her off. "Look, I'm sure you're nice and all, but I don't know you. Therefore, you aren't touching me. Besides, I'm fine." It was all the apology she was going to get, and I hoped that she realized that.

"From zhe sound of it Kitty, you are not." Kurt said gently. "Please just let Jean make sure there are no lasting effects from my sulfur or the chemicals."

I sighed. "There's no point. My body will heal."

"Kitty-" I held my hand up, stopping her inverbally this time.

"Does anybody have a knife?" My unexpected question shocked them, I could tell.

"Why do you need a knife Kitty?" Storm cautiously asked. From the way they were all slightly trembling, I could tell that they thought that I lost my mind.

"To prove to you all why I don't need a doctor."

"Kitty-"

"PLEASE!" What I was about to do was completely stupid, but I knew somehow that I _had_ to. I just had to.

Someone sighed, and the next thing I knew there was a small pocket knife in my right hand.

"Logan!" the mystery woman shouted.

"What?" he called back, "She ain't gonna let you see her, Jeanie, and she ain't gonna shut up either! So far, all people have done today is take from her. Might as well give her what she wants for once."

I smiled at him. _Oh, God I hope I'm right_. I would end up looking like a psycho if I wasn't. I flipped open the blade, and slashed it across my left wrist, shrieking slightly at the pain.

Dropping the knife, I fell to my knees clutching my wrist. Hands and voices were everywhere, pushing and pulling at me, but I didn't respond. I was fully focused on the feel of my skin beneath my fingers and the blood running through them.

Thankfully, I had been right when I remembered that fluke accident where I broke my leg and it was fine minutes later. My skin was literally knitting itself back together under my fingers, the blood stopping its flow. By the time it was done, I couldn't even feel a scar.

"There," I said breathlessly, shoving them all off of me and standing up, brandishing my wrist. Sure, it was covered with blood, but they could probably see that there was no cut.

"You have a healing factor?" the woman, Jeanie, asked incredulously.

"I have no idea what that means," I told her honestly, "But I can heal myself, yes."

"Healing and walking through objects? Professor," the man I did not know exclaimed, "She's incredible!"

"Indeed she is Scott," Xavier replied, "Which is why I want to make you an offer Kitty."

"And just what offer is that?" I asked.

"A place in my school, and a position on my team. Tell me Kitty, would you like to become an X-Man?"

My unseeing eyes stared in his direction. An X-Man? Me? Sure, it had been mentioned several times, but with everything going on I never really had the chance to think about it. What did I know?

I knew I was a mutant, and apparently I was powerful. I knew that a lot of people wanted me. Frost wanted me for my abilities. The Professor, for all his faults and patronization, seemed to genuinely want to help me figure this out. They all did.

I wasn't sure that I wanted to leave though. As much as I griped about it, I love my parents and my home. My school, dance class, it was all familiar. I could navigate it without even thinking. And this school was in New York. I'd be on the other side of the country. I'd never been more than 20 miles from my parents for more than a few hours. This would be beyond stepping outside of my comfort zone.

But in all honesty, what did Deerfield hold for me? There was no one there who could help me figure this whole thing out. My mom and dad hated my eyes, how would they react if they found out what else I could do? These people, even though they drove me crazy, seemed to be the only ones who maybe knew what I was going through, and wanted me for something more than my powers. In all honesty, what did I have to lose?

"Where do I sign?" I asked.

I couldn't see any of them, but I could tell they were smiling.


	6. Days Of Future Pryde Preview

_**Just a little something for you to chew on while I finish editing the sequel. It should be completely posted by the end of next week, if not sooner. **_

* * *

_**Manhattan**_

_**Present Day**_

_This is getting really old. _

Honestly, I am getting tired of waking up in strange places after getting knocked out for some reason. Is it my fault? No. Am I getting tired of it? Yes.

But when I opened my eyes, I noticed two things. One; I definitely wasn't in the med bay. That was really disconcerting. And two; I could _see_.

Well, at least I think I could see. Instead of complete and utter darkness, everything was bright. It was kind of hurting my eyes, but what can you do. There was no air pressure, so I couldn't tell how big the room was. If it was even a room. I was lying on something, although I couldn't tell what. Everything was the same, it all looked bright and hurt my eyes. Apparently there was no beginning and no end to my current location. And standing up, I noticed that the floor (if it was a floor) had no texture.

Everything rang with an eerie sameness that intensely creeped me out.

"Kind of weird, isn't it?"

I turned quickly at the voice. To my surprise, I found myself staring at a woman. _I think it's a woman. _I honestly didn't know how to tell with no air pressure or smell or anything that I usually relied on. The only way I thought she was female was because her voice was somewhat high pitched. But then again, some she could have been a gay man.

"Who are you?" I couldn't help but ask.

She laughed slightly. "Well, that's a good question with an interesting answer." she paused. "I guess you could say that I'm you."

Um..."WHAT?! Are you insane?"

She laughed again, only this time it sounded darker, more crazy than her previous one. "That, my young self, is debatable. _Very _debatable. But right now, I am more sane than I ever have been."


	7. Sequel up!

I just want to say thanks again to all of the readers. :) love you guys.

_**Iris-Stephenie **_

_**MarvelUZero**_

_** TooMuchBatman **_

_**kirbster676 **_

_**princesspowerful46664**_

Special thanks to those who favorited it.

_**MarvelUZero**_

_** Paradox Predator **_

_**TooMuchBatman **_

_**princesspowerful46664**_

And to those who followed it. I have a present for all of you.

The first chapter of the sequel, **Days of Future Pryde** is up!

Enjoy!


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